


Scratch The Surface

by orphan_account



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Do I tag sides who are actually just Deceit in disguise?, Gen, Morally Neutral Deceit Sanders, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Remy is only in it for about 30 seconds, Sorry Remy, Sympathetic Deceit Sanders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-24 23:41:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22422634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Dealing with panic attacks...Well, it wasn't exactly Deceit's department. Helping Thomas forget things he didn't want to think about anymore? That he could work with.(Thomas has a panic attack after waking up from a nightmare. Good thingDeceitVirgil is there to help him through it)
Relationships: Deceit Sanders & Thomas Sanders
Comments: 6
Kudos: 91





	Scratch The Surface

Thomas awoke with a jerk, stricken by panic before he could fully process his surroundings. It took almost falling out of bed for him to break through the sleep-induced haze and remember where he was in the pitch black. The sheets bunched around his legs as he scrambled back from the edge of the bed, the near-fall doing nothing to still his pounding heart. His breathing quickened again as he tried to extricate himself from the blankets on his bed, having grown entangled in them as he tossed and turned during the night. His head felt light, shallow breaths causing his chest to heave. It was too hot in his room, the sheets were trapping him, he was _suffocating under_ -

“- _down. It was just a dream, Thomas. Breathe in for four seconds. Breathe, Thomas_.”

The words came in and out of focus, only registering on the third or fourth repeat. _Can’t_ , he wanted to say, but the word refused to form in his mouth.

“You can, and you will. Just one deep breath- Now hold it…just a few more seconds...Now exhale **…** ”

The coaching continued as Thomas fought to get his breathing back under control. _In, hold, out, repeat_. Long after he’d fallen into the cycle, the soothing words continued to ground him. _It was a dream, nothing more. In, hold, out, repeat._ It took him longer than it should have to question _who_ was offering him instructions on breathing exercises in the middle of the night.

“Patton?” he rasped when the constricting band around his chest eased enough for him to breathe again.

“Not exactly. Just take it easy for a minute.”

With his head no longer spinning, his logical thinking started playing catch-up. Patton couldn’t sound that dejected if he tried. The voice was too emotive for Logan, too lethargic to possibly be Roman, but that only left…

“Virgil?”

“Expecting someone else?”

“Sorry, Virge.” He took in a shuddering breath, trying to maintain his breathing pattern as he carefully worked to disentangle himself from the sheets. The side remained silent, so much so that Thomas began to wonder if he’d descended back into his room. He squinted at the darkness until he thought he could pick out a silhouette. “What…happened?”

“You had a nightmare.”

Thomas shuddered at the images that sprang back to the forefront of his mind. “It felt so _real_.”

He thought he saw the outline nod. “It’ll fade, just try to relax.”

Had he been fully conscious, he may have found Virgil’s behaviour strange. The side had helped him to work through panic attacks before, but he couldn’t remember the last time he sounded so calm about it.

“D’you mind if I turn on the light?”

“Mind…? Oh, I guess not,” he replied, as if confused at the prospect of being consulted. It took some fumbling before he found the switch, the pair wincing in unison as light flooded. Even the dim bedside lamp seemed jarring after the near pitch black, it only served to exaggerate the dark semi-circles under Virgil’s eyes. For the first time, Thomas wondered if his sides actually slept.

“I didn’t know you guys could do this,” he said, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He tried to ignore the fact that his hands were still shaking. “You don’t…I mean, normally it’s just in videos. You’ve never shown up in my _room_ before.”

“You were the one that summoned me.”

“I did?”

“Even dreams can trigger a fight or flight response. Logan never mentioned that I control your adrenal glands?”

“Think he might have mentioned it.” Thomas winced as he noted the sudden change in temperature. With the initial panic fading and the blankets from his bed now a crumpled heap on the floor, he was starting to feel the draught from the AC again. Gooseflesh broke out across his forearms, skin still sheening with sweat. He wrinkled his nose and the pros and cons of testing his luck with the hot water at this time…what time was that again?

“Three fifteen,” he groaned. “I was supposed to work on a video today.”

“Can’t you work on it another day?”

“You know I can’t, Joan’s coming over to help me prepare. I can’t cancel on them this late.”

Virgil didn’t look pleased with this answer and Thomas frowned. Normally Virgil would be the one telling _him_ he couldn’t cancel on his friends.

“In that case, let’s prioritise lowering your heart rate so you can get back to sleep.”

“I don’t think I’m going to get back to sleep tonight, buddy.”

“You’ll have forgotten all about this by the time your alarm goes off. Why don’t you try watching something on your phone? Get your mind off it.”

He wanted to argue that he couldn’t imagine _ever_ getting that image out of his head, but even as he opened his mouth, he realised some of the finer details had slipped away. The sense of terror still featured prominently in his mind, the cold cut of steel, the blood…

How did it begin again? Was it normal for a dream to _hurt_ like-

“I told you to _stop_ thinking about it.”

Thomas jumped at the cutting note in Virgil’s tone.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “It’s hard not to-“

“I’d recommend a Disney movie, but this whole ordeal has been trying enough without Sir Sing-A-Lot getting involved.”

“He really can’t resist,” Thomas agreed. “The Office?”

“That seems…reasonable. Just _try_ to limit yourself to an episode or two this time? We’ve lost enough sleep as it is without you blowing through an entire season.”

“When have I _ever_ done that?”

“Try two weeks ago. How many times did you convince yourself it was just _one more episode_ again? Did you sleep at _all_ that night?”

Thomas groaned. “Not you too, I get enough hassle about my sleeping habits from Logan.”

The corners of Virgil’s mouth twitched, but he seemed…distracted. Now that he was more with it again, Thomas couldn’t help but notice that the side seemed reluctant to meet his eye.

“Is…everything alright, Virgil?”

His head snapped up as if suddenly reminded where he was. The reserved expression vanished, replaced instead by a self-deprecating smile. “My bad, just zoned out there for a minute.”

“Got somewhere else to be?” he teased.

“Well, you know how much I hate working overtime.”

Thomas let out a shaky laugh, some of the lingering tightness in his chest dissipating. Forcing himself to hold onto that feeling, he grabbed his phone off the nightstand and opened the Netflix app. “What episode are you in the mood for?”

“I’m sorry?”

“The Office. Unless you changed your mind? I’m thinking “The Deposition”. I know I’ve watched it like a million times, but it’s still one of my favourites.” He missed the peculiar look Virgil shot his way.

“That’s…fine, I guess.”

“C’mon then. I know it’s not the same watching it on my phone, but my laptop’s through in the living room.”

The idea of leaving the safety of his room to wander about the dark and too-empty house didn’t sound especially appealing right now.

It took Virgil another moment to realise Thomas expected him to sit beside him. The double bed was more than large enough for the both of them, but Virgil’s eyes still flickered between him and the empty space as if expecting some kind of trick.

“You want… _me_ to join you?”

“Well, yeah. You love the Office.”

Virgil shifted, drawing attention to the fact that he’d been standing awkwardly at the foot of the bed since he appeared. “I know, but…wouldn’t you prefer to hang out with someone a little more… _positive_ right now.”

Thomas frowned. “Is this about the whole dark side thing? I told you, I don’t care about your past.”

Virgil winced. “I meant more that _anxiety_ isn’t exactly what you want to encourage when you’re trying to sleep. What about Logan? A little logical thinking can’t hurt in helping you put that dream behind you. With a little luck, he’ll dive into one of his lectures on sleep studies. You’ll be fast in no time,” he said, trying to inject some false cheer into his words.

“Too bad Logan disapproves of my binging habits. I suppose you’re going to suggest Patton next?”

“He’s normally pretty good at raising your spirits.”

“Pressing play now. You watching too? Or are you just going to loom over my bed for the rest of the night?”

Virgil huffed but walked around the bed to perch on the very edge of the mattress. Despite feigning disinterest, he inched forward to get a better view when he thought Thomas wouldn’t notice.

“…Hey, Virge?”

“Mmm?”

“Do you guys…see what I dream about?”

Anxiety stayed quiet long enough that Thomas thought he might not reply, but eventually he answered, “it depends.”

“On what?”

“Logan would be better at explaining.”

“Nice try, but I’m asking you.”

Virgil sighed and began to fiddle with the sleeve of his hoodie. “It’s not like you have a single side dedicated to dreaming. Dreams are…manifestations of your subconscious thoughts. It’s not like Princey’s daydreams; we don’t sit down around a table and _plan_ your dreams…but yeah, when you’re drawing on one of our influence, we’re along for the ride. Same as when you’re awake.”

“So, you’re telling me that when I get those nightmares right before I go to the dentist…”

Virgil offered him a mock salute.

“All those dreams about turning up to exams late? Or in my underwear? Or in my underwear _because_ I was late? That was _you?!_ ”

“Again, we don’t _plan_ your dreams, we’re just effected by them. The more prominent we are, the more your unconscious thoughts lean into our respective jurisdictions. If anyone’s piloting your dreams, it’s you.”

Thomas blinked. “You lost me.”

“I _told_ you to let Logan explain.”

“It’s okay, I’m pretty sure I followed most of what you were trying to say.”

Virgil shrugged, privately relieved that Thomas had allowed himself to fall for the tangent instead of voicing the question that led to this line of thinking. “Close enough.”

They fell back into a comfortable silence. If not for Thomas adjusting the volume every few minutes, it might have even seemed peaceful.

_Too loud in the otherwise silent house. No, now it’s quiet enough for him to hear the creak that_ always _sounds like a floorboard right outside his door-_

“There’s nothing there,” Virgil said without looking up from the screen. Thomas bit his lip because he _knew_ that but what if there _was?_ He knew it had just been a dream, but people got their houses broken into all the time. How did he know for sure it was nothing? Should he go check? No, that sounded _much_ worse.

“You’re supposed to be distracting yourself.”

“I am!”

“You’re fixating.”

Thomas stuck his tongue out.

“Oh, very mature,” Virgil said, rolling his eyes.

It took time, but very slowly Thomas began to unwind. The episode ended and the next one began. Neither liked this one so much as the last, but Thomas couldn’t muster up the will to change it. The setbacks that sent his heart racing grew less frequent, his once erratic breathing evening out until he sank back into the pillows. Unknown to Thomas, Remy scowled at being dragged back to work so soon.

Virgil prised his phone from his limp fingers and returned it to the bedside. There was nothing to be done about the sheets on the floor, but Thomas seemed to sleep sound enough without them.

“All this over a dream,” he clicked his tongue, but Thomas was well beyond the point of rousing. “You can reflect on your self-identity to your heart’s content in those group therapy sessions you can videos, but the facts are indisputable. There are aspects of your person that are better forgotten.”

Thomas mumbled something in his sleep and Remy shot him a dirty look.

“Corrupt him in your own time, snake-boy,” Sleep drawled, taking a long sip from the straw of his Starbucks takeaway cup. “Don’t go thinking I’m coming back a third time tonight. You wake him up, we’re _done_. Comprende?”

“Remy,” the side purred in Virgil’s voice. “When have _I_ ever kept Thomas up at night?”

“Shoo. Oh, and pick a different face next time. I can’t _stand_ that guy.”

‘Virgil’ winked as he descended out of the room. In the fraction of a second it took for him to open his eye, it had changed from brown to vibrant yellow.

“Show off,” Remy muttered, and in the recesses of Thomas’ mind, Deceit laughed.

**Author's Note:**

> Mmm, a new hyperfixation. Just what the doctor ordered to help me get back into writing after an unwilling break.
> 
> In all seriousness, this fandom is something else. This was just a quick one for you guys, but lemme know if anything seems way off-base. All I ask is you try to keep the criticism constructive.  
> I'm thinking about posting a followup chapter explaining why exactly Deceit stepped in for Virgil in this chapter, but I feel like this could probably be read on its own too.
> 
> Hope at least some of you enjoyed!


End file.
